


Stone Hearts and Hand Grenades

by Lady_Mayrid



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Mayrid/pseuds/Lady_Mayrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arianna Tactus was turian in every way that mattered, too bad that wasn't always enough...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ari

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So if anyone reading this is has read me before, you know I tend to write epics rather than short stories or anything of the like. This here is something completely different then I'm used to; basically it's my own head-cannon, one that's consistently been floating around in my brain for the past five years or so, ever since I first played the games. It's not something I generally obsess about but recently (while trolling around the ME fandom looking for some inspiration for the reboot of my stargate story,) I've come across a few good reads that made me decide to pull this out of storage, tweak it a bit, and then post it up for everyone to see.
> 
> Yay me!
> 
> So anyways, unlike anything else I've ever written, this is going to be more or less a whole bunch of little drabbles and such strung together in chronological order to make a much bigger story. The chapters will be short and numerous, or long depending upon how I feel when writing them. Something they won't be, however, is anywhere near my normal length. No 20,000 something words here – maybe five or six if I feel like it but probably nothing longer than that. And, moving on, I believe I mentioned there where some fics out there that sorta inspired this one. They are as follows:
> 
> "Raised Turian" by Deadelfsgirl, "Foreign Relations" by ghanimajade and, my personal favorite, "Between Breaths" by Plantress. If any of you have time and haven't done so already, I highly recommend you go check those out.
> 
> Anyway, that's it for me – I realize I've written you a novel and my A/N's almost as long as this first chapter by I had to say it and I had to give credit where credit's due. If you enjoy this then please leave a comment as comments are the only way fanfiction authors get paid. Put a penny in my cup and make my day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello readers, how are you all on this lovely day?
> 
> Okay, so I know I was going to keep this short – I promised this wasn’t going to turn into a big project and it was just going to kinda be an interconnecting run of one-shots that formed a bigger story. However, my muse decided otherwise so here I am telling you all that I’ve done editing and that things have changed. I tried, I really did, but she just wouldn’t let me leave things as they were so as of 11/9/2015, this chapter has been revised.
> 
> (Ducks down, holds arms over head) Please don’t hurt me and let me know what ya’ll think.
> 
> Toddles.

* * *

There’s an old turian saying about the best weapon being the blade of the enemy turned on its master. Your average turian will tell you the term’s old, outdated, and useless because why would you need the enemy’s sword when you could just shoot them. Most generals on the other hand, most anyone past captain, if asked, would tell you a different story. Overwhelming force is all well and good by why waste resources when you can get the job done just as well without them. Turning an opponent’s own blade around on them is much more effective especially if that blade happens to be able to walk, talk and think on its own. The part of the old saying that everyone always misconstrues is that the sword isn’t always an actual sword. It can be anything: a rock, a grenade, someone’s pride or even a little human girl.

When Tactus found her she was scarred, wet and all alone; the only living thing in the underground lab the general and his team had been sent to neutralize. According to their Intel the facility was being used to create a bio-weapon to be deployed against anyone a specific group of humans didn’t like. This interest group, Cerberus, was still a bit sore about how the recent relay 314 incident had ended. The battle was over but they were still trying to win. Human stupidity at its finest: unable to recognize they’d been beaten.

Palaven Command had sent General Tactus not only because he was a man who got results but because a bioweapon could be any number of things – the right call sometimes came down to nothing more than a morality call made by whoever was in charge. Darren Tactus was a honorable man so when his team breached the lab, found all the technicians dead, the facility abandoned and a small, terrified human child left behind in the rubble, he didn’t so much as think twice. A child was a child, no more no less. He scooped her up, held her close and brought her back to his ship where he had his medic examine her. It was something of a surprise to learn, a day later, the girl wasn’t just a survivor.

She _was_ the weapon.

“Explain,” he demanded, looking over the small, frightened child huddled up on the infirmary bed trying to make herself as small as possible and looking anywhere but at the two turians. “How could she -”

“Shin weave, bone weave, genetic modification and tampering,” his medic began to list the things he’d found. It was a long list. “She’s a biotic too, stronger than most cabals. Her cells indicate she was exposed to eezo while still in utero and again, several times, shortly after her birth. If not for the cerebral implant, her brain would’ve exploded years ago and speaking of explosions – I think I know what happened to those lab techs.”

The implication was clear, Tactus’ eyes narrowed. “You think she killed them.”

“I do,” the second turian nodded. “But I don’t think she meant to. I think, based off the physical evidence, she was systematically tortured in order to manifest some type of instinctual response. Like training a varren for the fighting cage, they wanted her to -”

“How old is she?” A click told Tactus the medic wasn’t sure. He sighed, “Guess.”

 “Three, maybe four years old.” Given her size, weight and his limited understanding of human biology it was his best estimate. “Why do you ask?”

“She’s a child,” Tactus replied, body stiff, mandibles held tight against his face in barely concealed rage. “She’s a child and she’s been _tortured_.”

“Extensively,” the doctor agreed. “It’d probably be best if we euthanized her now -”

“No.”

“What do you mean no!?!”

Tactus turned to him. “There’s no honor in killing a child, not before it’s been given a chance to live.”

The medic sputtered. “If you turn her over to the humans there’s a very good chance they’ll kill her anyway and _they_ won’t be nice about it. It’d be better -”

“Easier maybe, but not better. Not for her anyway.” The general sighed, “And I’m not suggesting we turn her over to the Alliance. Child or no, she was created to be a weapon and one does not give idiots weaponry,” he sighed again, “We’re taking her back to Palaven.”

“To do what with?” the medic demanded, “Study her, lock her up and throw away the key? How’s that any better then -”

“I’m not going to lock her away and I’m most certainly not going to let our scientists study her,” Tactus countered. “I’m going to raise her.”

The medic was astounded. “You’re going to…are you insane!?! Why would -”

“She’s a weapon, Chavik,” Tactus explained, “And the humans, especially this group, Cerberus, is the enemy. I’m going to turn her into a sword.”

Chavik, the medic, gave a groan and shook his head. “You high-castes and that damned saying. When has it ever worked out the way it was intended?”

“Several times actually,” replied the general. “The history books are peppered with very notable successes. Take the unification wars for example. When we conquered Invictus -”

“Yes, yes, I know the story,” Chavik exclaimed, “I don’t need a history lesson.”

Tactus clicked. “Apparently you do.”

The medic glared at him. “Well it’ll have to wait,” he said, “If we’re taking her back to Palaven you’re going to have to come up with some argument to give the hierarchy but before that, might I suggest you try and bond with her? It might help your cause if when you take her to see the Primarch she’s already attached to you.”

It was fair advice so, after sending a message to the bridge telling them to plot a course, the general approached the bed with the child in it and sat down in front of her.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

The little girl nodded proving that her translator had started working. He tried to smile, hoping not to scare her. “Don’t be frightened, I won’t hurt you. My name is Darren Tactus. What’s yours?”

“Ari.”

“Just Ari?”

A nod. “Arianna but the lady that brings me food always called me Ari.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

Blue eyes, suddenly more visible beneath strange, light yellow fringe, studied him intently. “You look weird. Why do you look weird?”

He chuckled. “Because I’m turian.”

“What’s a tur…tur-an?”

“Turian,” he corrected, drawing out the syllables for her benefit. “And it’s what I am.”

“Well then what am I?” she asked.

“You’re a human,” he replied.

She made a face. “I don’t wanna be human, humans are mean. They locked me up and turned out all the lights. It was always dark and my tummy was empty and I was cold.”

She crawled to the edge of the bed and then, after only a moment of hesitation, straight into his lap. Surprised, Tactus barely had time to catch her before she tumbled to the floor. Ari didn’t seem to notice or maybe she just didn’t care. Sitting in his lap looking up at him, her little eyes were all but imploring.

“Can I be a turian too?”

Hugging her tightly, he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll teach you to be turian in every way that matters.”

“You promise?” she asked, tiny arms wrapping around as much of him as they could, burrowing further into his armored chest. The cold metal didn’t seem to bother her.

Darren Tactus looked down, surprised by her willingness to seek comfort from him but secretly glad of it. If it was bonding they were supposed to be doing then he was already half there. “I promise, Ari,” he whispered, lowering his head to nuzzle at the top of hers with his right cheek and mandible. “You have my word.”

Minutes later, still in his lap, the little girl was sound asleep.

~xXx~

Convincing the Primarch of Palaven along with Hierarchy command to let him keep her proved relatively easy, much easier then Tactus thought it’d be. They, like him, saw the potential in sharpening an enemy’s blade and then waiting for the right opportunity to hold it against their throats. The only concern they had was in how best to ensure her loyalty. It was decided that simply raising her within the culture wouldn’t be enough, her fidelity had to be complete and to this end, Senate Advisor Fedorian had a solution.

Since Tactus had already volunteered to raise her it was unanimously voted he would be the one to take it a step further. The Tactus name was among the most well respected in Hierarchy space producing more primarchs and senators than any other. Their entire clan was born to serve and inducting Ari into it meant that when the time came she’d act with all the dignity, determination and loyalty of her ancestors. When the verdict came and Tactus was presented with his new charge he accepted gracefully, standing straight and proud through the adoption proceedings that officially made the little girl he’d found and rescued his daughter: Arianna Tactus.

Fedorian was at his side minutes after the ceremony ended asking him what in Spirit’s name he was thinking.

“What was _I_ thinking?” Tactus growled, “You’re the one convinced the Primarch and his entire command that I needed to adopt -”

“I made the suggestion because it was the only surefire way to ensure she grows up loyal to the hierarchy,” Fedorian countered, waving his hands in order to silence his friend, “I made the best call based on the situation I was given. What I want to know is why I was given the situation in the first place.”

Darren sighed. “They tortured her Jorell. A child, my medic thinks she’s probably about four – that’s only three years younger than Tysus. They starved her and they hurt her because they were trying to condition her like you would a fighting varren. You didn’t see how scared she looked when I found her…”

“Damn.” Fedorian’s heart wrenched at the mention of his son and the small gap in age between him and the human girl his oldest friend was now in charge of. When thought of like that, he knew he would’ve made the same call had their positions been reversed. Children were meant to be treasured and loved unconditionally. He wondered how long it would take for Tactus to develop more than a sense of duty towards his young charge.

It took exactly a month, one month of her living with him before Darren took Fedorian aside one day and told him he felt he was beginning to love her. Jorell had smiled at him, patted him on the back and told him it was about time before casually mentioning that maybe their children could get together and play sometime. The introduction went surprisingly well: Ari walked up to Tysus and said hi, Tysus snarled at her and called her a stupid pyjak, Ari’s face turned red, she stomped her foot and then the next thing Tysus knew she’d punched him in the face. Both Jorell and Darren had found this to be ridiculously funny.

“She’s got spunk, I’ll give her that,” Fedorian commented, watching as his older son got chased around by a human girl three years younger and about a foot shorter. “Knows how to stand up for herself.”

“She’s a Tactus,” Darren replied, watching his daughter proudly, “She’s not allowed to surrender.”

Fedorian snorted and then the two of them went back inside. From that day forwards the two children were nearly inseparable so much so that to save on time, Fedorian offered to let Ari join Tysus during his lessons with his tutors rather than make Tactus hire her her own. Whenever Darren had to travel off planet for a mission or whenever he was deployed, Ari came and stayed with them. She even had her own room. When it came time for Tysus to join basic, both Darren and Jorell had to comfort her for days after he’d gone away promising her that it’d be her turn soon enough.

And when it was, Fedorian had to comfort Darren because nine years hadn’t been enough and he wasn’t ready yet to let his daughter go.

“She’s a Tactus,” Jorell reminded him, clapping him on the shoulder as the shuttle carrying his baby girl got farther and farther away. “She’ll be fine. You’ve taught her well.”

Tactus was reassured but only just. He’d always told her that she was turian in every way that mattered and in her childhood, closed off and separated from the majority of turian society, surrounded by only an elite few, it was all true. Out there though, in the real world, Darren wasn’t sure it would be. For spirit’s sake he hoped she’d be alright because if something happened to her, if anything happened to her, there’d be hell to pay.

“Come on,” Fedorian was saying, taking her friend by the shoulders in order to steer him back towards their transport. He needed to get him mind of Ari’s leaving and get it focused on something else. He knew just the thing, “Guess who just got promoted to general?”

“Who?” asked Tactus dejectedly.

“Adrien Victus.”

Darren froze then growled. “For spirit’s sake why?”  he demanded, “Victus can barely follow orders why makes Command think he’s capable of giving them?”

“He’s not as bad as you think he is. He’s just -”

With a loud growl Tactus spun on his heel and stomped away muttering under his breath something about how stupid Palaven Command was being. Shaking his head, Fedorian let out a sigh and followed.


	2. The Academy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of 11/9/15 this chapter has been revised

* * *

For as long as Ari could remember her father had always told her it didn’t matter what she’d born, she was turian in every way that mattered.  All her life she’d believed him and when, at fifteen, she’d gotten to basic, she’d gone out of her way to prove as much to those around her. Her drill instructors had all been impressed, amazed at her grasp of weaponry, battle strategy and hand-to-hand fighting techniques. War came easy to her and she breezed through her training ranking high in the top five percent of every field by the time she graduated early. Basic training usually lasted a full year; thirteen months. If you were good you could sometimes do it in ten – Ari did it in just under nine. Her accomplishment was seen as proof her father had been right, that she really was the same as everyone else in all the ways that mattered. After basic, she was accepted into the Palaven Military Academy to be trained as an officer.

It was there that things changed and she learned the hard lesson that sometimes what someone looks like is judged more important then what’s on the inside. Her two years at the Academy nearly broke her; her peers went out of their ways to hurt her while her instructors pretended nothing was wrong and looked the other way. She heard the words _‘you’re weak’_ and _‘go home’_ so often she began to almost believe them. She was punished for fighting when all she’s done was defend herself, the armor her father had had commissioned for her was taken away because it didn’t comply to the Academy’s regulations. She was forced to try and survive on only dextro food which only kept her alive, it didn’t nourish her. The one time she’s dared to complain because her biotic were suffering, she was losing weight and her stomach won’t stop growling, the training commander had told her she’d receive no special treatment and would be treated the same as every other cadet.  

Every other cadet was turian – by the time she graduated she could see each of her individual ribs, hadn’t slept a full night’s rest in over a year and was dangerously close to falling apart. She was so thankful when she was giver her orders, thankful that she’d be able to get away from here and make a fresh start somewhere else. Somewhere where she could prove to her new commander that she was more than just a weak, pathetic little human.  She was happy until she’d read her orders and realized who her new commanding officer was going to be.

General Adrien Victus.

Ari had been assigned to the _Lantre._


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Of all the ships in the turian fleet the  _Lantre_  was probably the most notorious.  With a crew compliment of forty, the cruiser had a reputation as a dumping ground for all the loose cannons, back-talkers and bad attitudes the turian military had to offer. It was captained by First General Adrien Victus, one of the youngest generals in Palaven’s Command. He had a reputation, much like his ship, for being something of a renegade. In all honesty he wasn’t that bad, there were worse turians in command positions peppered throughout the Special Forces arm of the military – what made Victus noteworthy was his background.

Socially, turians had a caste system which was primarily dictated by your family’s service record and by clan achievements. If you were born into one of the higher castes then your career path was pretty much chosen for you; failing to follow it or choosing to deviate from it usually resulted in exile. The Victus’ had been lifelong military since the unification wars so it was expected of Adrien to do well, obtain a high rank and serve until he died. What was _not_ expected of him was to receive an offer to join the Spectres before he was twenty. In reality he should’ve accepted but he’d chosen familial duty over personal desire and refused. As a result, although he’d continued to climb the ranks as was expected, his reputation had spiraled out of control from there until the name Adrien Victus became almost synonymous with the words reckless, rebellious and disobedient. A self-described bad turian, he was in charge of all the other bad turians – it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he got a message telling him Second Lieutenant Arianna Tactus would be joining his crew.

Apparently the virtue of being human was enough to get her branded a bad turian if only because she wasn’t in fact a turian.

Victus thought it was stupid.

In preparation for her coming the general had prepared himself and his ship as best he could. They’d stocked up on levo rations and both he and his medical officer had given themselves a crash course in human biology and human medicine.  They were as prepared as they were going to be so Victus had started studying her files, requesting her transcripts from both basic and the Academy in order to try and get a better idea of what he was getting into. The reports contradicted each other; the one from basic said she was exemplary while the one from the Academy said she lacked motivation and was rebellious and defiant just for the hell of it. His instincts told him something was going on here and so he decided to wait on formulating an opinion until he actually met her.

The meeting took place a week later in a docking bay just outside Palaven’s capitol. He’d decided to take the shuttle and pick herself up himself, his hope being that collecting her personally would throw her off just enough to get some genuine reactions out of her. When he exited the craft and stood face to face with her he noticed three things right away. The first was that she was pale, gaunt and entirely too thin. The second, based on the way she carried herself and the critical way she was looking at him, she was only human in appearance and third, her eyes were the most piercing shade of blue he’d ever seen.

She snapped into a salute as soon as he stopped before her. “Lieutenant Arianna Tactus reporting as ordered Sir.”

Vitus was amused. “At ease,” he replied, taking the time to appraise her a little more closely. Having traveled the galaxy rather more extensively then some of his counterparts, he knew by looking at her she was attractive by human standards. Even in her emaciated state, while it did detract, it didn’t detract much. Still, it was obvious her health had been woefully neglected in the past; something Victus had every intention of correcting. Whatever the reason for her ill state he had a hunch it had something to do with her conflicting records.

Wordlessly he motioned for her to board the shuttle before entering behind her, helping her to stow her gear and then taking off. The return flight up to the _Lantre_ was taken in silence and upon their arrival Victus forwent the usual tour – he showed her her quarters and that was it – in order to deliver her directly to the infirmary. He introduced his chief medical officer, Chief Master Sergeant Aiden Marxus, told her he’d take care of her and then ordered her to report back to him once she was done.

Then he left.

Maxus, meanwhile, turned to the girl, looked her up and down, came to the same conclusions the general had and gave a click of disapproval. “Take off your clothes and get on the exam table,” he instructed, turning his back in order to give her the illusion of privacy. He knew humans were modest and he wasn’t sure if that was an inherent trait or something that was learned. It was better to be safe than sorry. When he turned back around however; he was unable to contain his shock. 

It wasn’t just her weight that was concerning. She had several injuries peppered cross her body as well as a fair amount of scars. If he didn’t know better he’d say she’s done at least three years on the front lines rather than two years at a prestigious military school. There hadn’t been anything in her records that had prepared him for this.

“What in spirit’s name happened to you!?!” he demanded.

Shifting uncomfortably, the lieutenant’s eyes dropped to her lap. “I…it’s nothing,” she explained, “Just a few scratches…”

Marxus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In what world were the three long scars running down her abdomen, an eerily similar scar running the length of her arm or the crisscrossing pattern of raised red lines on her thigh considered scratches? She looked like she’d been mauled by a varren. “What happened?” he asked again, sub-vocals ringing heavily with concern. “Who attacked -”

“It was a sparing accident, I wasn’t attacked,” Tactus insisted. “I just wasn’t fast eno -”

“And _why_ wasn’t any medi-gel applied?” he interrupted, annoyed by the attempt to downplay her injuries. Victus always trying to pull that shit with him too – Marxus had always wondered if it was a caste thing, something the high clans taught their young before they taught them how to walk. He got that the idea of putting on a brave face for the sake of moral but from a medical standpoint it was all ridiculously stupid. The general could get away with it, this girl wasn’t that lucky.

“Did you at least get stitches?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Marxus blinked. “Why in spirits’ name not?!?”

She shrugged. “They’re just scratches. At the time, the medic on duty had more important things to do then -”

“– Make sure you didn’t bleed out?” he interrupted, “I somehow doubt that.” He grabbed an arm, holding her so that she couldn’t pull away as he turned the appendage over to look more closely at another long red scar. “And this?”

Ari was confused. If she didn’t know better she’d say he sounded concerned. “That…that was an accident.”

“An accident,” Marxus repeated, letting her arm fall. He looked at her, watching the way her shoulders hunched forwards as if trying to make herself seem smaller. He got the distinct impression she was afraid although of what he had no idea. He was a doctor, his creed meant he could not harm. His eyes dropped to a silvery patch of connecting scars on top of her right thigh. “How about this one?”

Deciding the damage was already done, Ari answered honestly. “I got shot during a training run using live ammo.”

He looked at her. “So what, your medic _dug_ the bullet out?”

She shook her head. “The medic had more important things to do. I’m the one who -”

He growled. “You got shot on a training mission and your field medic had more important things to do then take the bullet out and apply some medi-gel?”

A nod. “It’s no big -”

“Stop!” He held up a hand, no longer interested in hearing her excuses for why her medical needs had not been met. If he ever met the idiot that had done this to her he’d rip his mandibles off and shove them down his throat. “I need to run some scans,” he told her, “Figure out what _else_ your medic was apparently too busy to take care of. Lie down on your back, don’t talk, and hold out your arm. I’m gonna need to take blood.”

Dutifully, the lieutenant did as she was told, swinging her legs up and leaning back until she was flat on her back staring up at the ceiling. Marxus approached her from the side and began by running a handheld body scanner over her; pausing periodically to type his findings another tablet.  So far he wasn’t impressed.  His patient had a multitude of scars as well as old injuries littered across her body that, for the most part, all appeared to have been either badly treated or not treated at all. A disturbing picture was beginning to form in his head helped along by her repeated assertions that her injuries weren’t that bad and that the attending physicians who’d seen them at the time all had better, more important things to do then stitch her up and slap on some medi-gel.

He was curious about something though. “Does General Tactus know the extent of your injuries?”

“Parents are only contacted if there’s a serious injury and mine were never -”

“So that’s a no.”

Closing her eyes to the harshness of his tone, Ari gave a single nod.

Snarling softly, Marxus returned to his tests.

Two hours later she was released although not back to Victus. Of all the things he’d found, her weight was probably the most bothersome. He sent her to go eat after assuring her there would be no reprimand from the general for her failure to appear.  As soon as she was gone, Marxus grabbed the data pads with her results before marching straight to Victus’ office.  He was so worried about what he’d found, he didn’t even bother to knock. Barging in, he planted himself in front of the general’s desk and announced, “We have a problem.”

Victus blinked, surprised by the sudden invasion. His crew might lack the usual formality of other commands but for the most part they all seemed to remember he was in fact a general and acted accordingly. For his medic to forgo all sense of propriety something must be very wrong.

“What kind of problem?” he ventured, watching as the turian before him practically vibrated with rage. Damn. What in spirit’s name –

“Here,” said Marxus, practically thrusting the data pad in his hand into his commander’s face. “Read this.”

Alarmed, Victus took the pad and began to read. He felt his eyes widen on about the fourth line and he felt his breath catch on the eighth. By the time he’s read the whole report not only was he seething, he was clutching the thing so hard his talons had cracked the glass.

“Are you _sure_ this is accurate?”

The chief nodded. “I ran the tests three times. She’s anemic, dangerously malnourished and, as near as I can tell based my admittedly limited understanding of human anatomy; her body’s been eating itself in order to help keep her alive.  She’s dying general, she’s starving to death.”

It took absolutely everything Victus had to keep himself calm. “So we know why?”

“I have a guess,” the medic replied. “According to her files from before basic she’s got dual chirality.”

“And that means what Sergeant?” Victus inquired. “She can eat dextro food without getting sick?”

“It means not only can she eat our food and not die she can also get some nutritional value from it. Some, not much. Do you see where I’m going with this general?”

“I have a disturbing idea I do.”

“An analysis of the contents of her stomach confirmed my suspicions,” Marxus continued. “When asked, she told me the Academy review board made it clear when she first arrived that she’d receive no special treatment. She said they told her she’d be treated just like any other turian student and the rest of the students only eat -”

“Dextro.” Victus cursed, his hands clenching themselves into fists at the thought of what she must’ve gone through. He looked at Marxus; his expression told him there was more. He had to know, “What else?”

The medic forked over a second data pad. Victus snatched it and began reading. “Severe trauma to several internal organs consistent with sparring, no signs injuries were allowed to heal before being repeated.  Severe blunt force trauma to the orbital socket, zygomatic arch and nasal bones consistent with face injury as a result of sparing; evidence suggestions bones were left untreated and allowed to heal on their own. Severe scaring on the right side of abdomen, starting at the fourth rip all the way down to patient’s hip. Three long gashes consistent in width with turian talons…”

Victus looked up. “Let me guess; the wounds were untreated?”

“Each time I asked about one of her injures she told me they weren’t serious and that the medic on duty had had more important things to do at the time. I asked, General Tactus was never contacted, never informed. Parents are only brought in when there’s been a serious injury. Her medical records from the two years she was at the Academy are suspiciously blank, almost as though she were never seen. She -”

There was a knock on the door. “Enter,” Victus called.

Lieutenant Tactus appeared in the doorway. She took one step, saw Marxus, and instantly froze. “Forgive the intrusion General, Sergeant. I can return at another -”

“There’s no need Lieutenant, we were just discussing you.” A cloud came over her face and, too late, Victus realized how that may’ve sounded. “You’re not in any trouble,” he assured, offering her a smile he hoped would be well received. When her posture didn’t appear to have eased any, he sighed and gestured for her to take a seat. “I’ve got some questions for you,” he informed her. “Marxus, we will finish this discussion later.”

Looking like he wanted to argue, the medic thought better of it, gave his general a small, informal salute, and then turned on his heel and left. Alone, Victus studied the girl in front of him trying to work out how best to approach this. Now that he took the time he could see she was guarded, on edge and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. He might’ve been insulted if he didn’t already have an idea of what the last two years of her life had been like. She was still in survival mode and while that was all well and good Victus wanted her snap out of it, to know she was safe and that he wouldn’t hurt her. You were supposed to be able to trust your commanding officer and until she did, nothing was going to get any better. He needed her to trust him and she needed to know that she could.

He decided to try playing a little game. “Why do you think you were given this post?”

Confused, the lieutenant frowned. “I…I don’t understand the question sir.”

His mandibles clicked. “I asked you why you think Palaven Command saw fit to assign you to me?”

Repeating the question didn’t help her. Ari was still confused. “I…I don’t know,” she stammered. It occurred to her that this might be a trick question which, if that was the case, meant she’d have to be careful with her answer. “It’s not my place to question -”

“For the moment, let’s pretend it is,” Victus said. “Tell me why you think you were given to me.”

She was still hesitant, still unsure. What did he want from her, she didn’t understand. “I…I don’t…I mean I couldn’t – can’t – presume…”

She was being so careful, so cautious. She thought it was a trap and he needed her to know it wasn’t. That she could answer honestly.  “I give you permission, presume away.”

“B-but general -”

“I can _order_ you to presume if you’d like. Would that be better?”

“I-I still can’t -”

“Answer the question lieutenant,” Victus ordered, “Why do you think Palaven Command saw fit to give you what is widely considered to be the most dishonorable positing in the entire -”

“Because I’m human!”

Finally. “And why should that matter?”  he asked.

Ari stared at him. “Because it does!”

“But why?” he pressed, wanting her to explain.

She growled at him, finally angry enough to forget – at least for a moment – who she was talking to. “Because it means I’m not turian. I’m not good enough or strong enough. I’m pathetic and weak and I don’t _deserve_ to have been raised thinking I’d ever be anything other than a sniveling, puny little pyjak. My father should’ve let me where he found me; I should’ve been killed at birth!”

“Is that what they told you; your peers at the Academy?” Victus asked, trying to keep his sub-vocals neutral. He didn’t know if she could hear them or not but he wouldn’t put it past her. He didn’t want her to dear his disgust and think it was meant for her. “Did they tell you you should’ve been left for dead?”

“Some of them,” she nodded. “Sometimes my instructors said things too. And the medic, he lost his mate and a brother in the relay three-one-four incident. Because of that, he always refused to treat me.”

Victus suddenly had the urge to hit something. It might be best if he and that medic never met each other. “Being human is not a sin, lieutenant,” he tried to explain, “No more than is being turian, asari, salarian or hell, even hanar. We can’t help what we’re born Tactus. We can, however, help what we are made.”

She looked at him, wanting so badly to trust him it almost physically hurt. It’d been so long since she felt safe enough to believe, to hope, to let down her guard. She’d been on board less than a day, it was too soon.  She didn’t know enough to trust him yet. She needed –

Victus was talking, his voice pulling her from her thoughts, forcing her back into the present. “You’re the first and only human to have ever served on this ship,” he was saying, “As such, I need to know if you have any needs which cannot be met as though you were turian. Alternative food will, I believe, be the most troublesome as our cook has no idea how to prepare anything non-dextro. I’m sure he’d be willing to learn but, until then, if there’s anything else -”

“There’s not.”

General Victus looked at her. “Oh?” He cocked his head, “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure. Anything else, I can conform.”

Victus’ eyes turned hard. “I don’t want you to have to conform; I want you to tell me what you need so I can provide it for you.”

Ari shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in her chair. “There isn’t anything I need to be done differently,” she instead, “I’m perfectly capable of making do -”

“Making do is a cop out for settling for something that doesn’t really work,” Victus growled. “Now, I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Try telling me you’ll _make do_ again and I’ll consider that insubordination and refusal to comply with a direct order. Let’s try this again: is there anything you need in your day-to-day routine which you don’t have and I can provide for you?”

She didn’t answer, at least not right away. A minute dragged by and then another. Victus sighed and opened his mouth to reprimand her only to suddenly hear her breathe a reply.

“Armor.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I need armor,” Ari repeated. “The stuff I have is crap.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It wasn’t made for me, it’s turian. I can’t even wear most of it; just the chest plate, the cuisses and the greaves. The rest I can’t even get into.”

Victus stared at her, sub-vocals vibrating with incredulous disgust. “They gave you armor you can’t wear?”

She nodded. “I had some in basic that my father had commissioned for me but it was confiscated.”

He had to force himself to remain professional; he didn’t think Tactus’ daughter would appreciate watching him lose his temper. That and he didn’t want to frighten her. “That’s all for now lieutenant, you’re dismissed. Report back to me in the morning and I’ll assign you your shipboard duties.”

Nodding she rose, gave him another salute, and then took her leave. Once she was gone, Victus was still for exactly twelve seconds before he picked up the data pad Marxus had left him, the one with her results on it, and hurled it across the room. It hit the opposite wall and smashed, breaking apart into about thirty pieces. The destruction did nothing whatsoever to curb his anger and there was no doubt about it, Adrien Victus _was_ angry.

This wasn’t the first time he’d inherited a lost or damaged crew member – it happened quiet frequently actually. Most of his crew had been abused at some point either by their families or by other commands. But the lieutenant, Ari, _she_ was different. She came from a high caste, _his_ caste. Her father was a currently serving as a tribunal member and her father’s best friend was next in line to be Primarch of Palaven. She was socially his equal if not his superior and the thought that someone – multiple someones – had dared try and break her made him absolutely furious.

If he ever met any of the people who’d hurt her, he’d invoke the right of _venteri_ and rip out their fucking hearts.

Still fuming, Victus left his office and headed towards the simulator. He needed to shoot something, preferably something not alive. He quickened his pace wondering if he could program the sim into making targets that looked like the heads of the Academy’s disciplinary board…

~xXx~

The alarm on Ari’s omni-tool woke her at precisely zero-four-thirty. It wasn’t ideal, she’d have liked a little more sleep, but two years of trying to get out of the dorms before her classmates woke up had wreaked havoc on her internal clock. Now she was lucky if she slept past five. Leaving her room, she headed for the mess hall which was practically deserted this early in the ship’s day cycle save for the few individuals who were either part of the night shift or, like her, always woke up way early. Nobody so much as looked at her while she was in line allowing her to fill her tray and then go find a place to sit down completely undisturbed. She chose to sit in the corner with her back to the wall so she could see any potential threats coming her way. Not that she thought there’d be any but old habit’s tended to die hard. She was halfway through her meal when Victus appeared and while he made time to stop and talk with several crew members, Ari took the opportunity to actually study him.

He wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting. Her father hated him and, growing up, she’d heard so many stories about him it was hard to tell what was real and what was fiction. Her father’s dislike seemed to stem from an incident he was never willing to explain to her. All he’d say was that Victus had disobeyed a director order and because he wasn’t punished for it, seemed to think he was above the rules and didn’t have to follow him. His name, at least in her household, was synonymous with dissention and rebellion – two things she had yet to see even though, granted, she had yet to really know him. He also didn’t look anything like she thought he would. With all the talk of him being a renegade Ari had half expected him to look the part.

He didn’t.

Tall, broad shouldered, wide hips and with a narrow waist Adrien Victus was a damned near perfect example of turian masculinity. Add in his rank, his tan skin and the contrast of his markings over the brown-grey of his face plates and it was a wonder the females on this ship didn’t all end up distracted. Then again, he was a higher caste then almost everyone on board. Even if interest was shown social convention demanded he decline. The _Lantre_ ’s only other high caste member was Ari herself and she’d never –

 “May I join you?”

“Spirits!” Startled, she looked up into the amused amber eyes of the very man she’d been thinking about. A blush began to creep up the back of her neck and, embarrassed, she snapped out the first thing that came to mind. “It’s your ship.”

Victus’ mandibles flared.

Realizing what she’d said, Ari immediately tried to apologize. “I...I’m sorry Sir, that was -”

Raising a hand, the general waved away her apology before she could finish giving it. “There’s no need,” he assured her, setting down his tray before taking the chair to her right. “I don’t know if you know this but I have a reputation. Formality is something I’m afraid we don’t have very much of on this ship.”

No less embarrassed, at least her blush was beginning to fade. “Still, I shouldn’t have -”

“We are the same caste you and I,” he reminded her, still grinning, “Technically you can speak to me however you like.”

Ari looked down at her plate. Above her, Victus sighed.

“How did you sleep?”

She looked up. “I…well sir.”

“You’re up early.”

“I never sleep past five.”

“Is there any particular reason for that?”

She shook her head. “No sir. I just -”

“Ari stop.” She looked at him, startled by his use of her first name. He was sorta pushing the boundaries here, just a little bit, but at the moment he didn’t care. “Don’t lie to me.”

He watched her breath get caught in her throat, a vein on the side of it pulsing. “I’m not…I’m not lying sir. I always get us early.”

“Which is, I imagine, something you learned in the Academy – hard for anyone to gang up on you if you’re already gone by the time everyone else is awake.” He cocked his head, eyes narrowed in calculating scrutiny, “I’m right aren’t I?”

Ari’s eyes never rose from her tray. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted.

Victus decided to consider this progress. “Old habits sometimes take a while to die. I do hope you realize you’re safe here. No one on this ship is going to hurt you, you have my word.”

Swallowing hard, Ari bit back what she wanted to say. That, according to her father, the general’s word meant next to nothing.

The expression on her face, Victus guessed anyway. “I know your father doesn’t particularly care for me and I can well imagine all the things you’ve undoubtedly been told. My reputation isn’t exactly a secret and I don’t usually feel the need to justify myself to someone who’s opinion of me is already set. For you however, I’ll make the effort.”

“But why?” she asked, eyes wide as she stared at him in shock, “Why would you, I mean, why -”

“Because I’m your commanding officer, it is my duty to serve and protect you as it is your duty to obey my order. It’s a covenant of trust and it doesn’t work if one party is always suspicious of the other so until I have your confidence, I will do everything in my power to chance your opinion of me.”

And to that, she had no idea what to say, there was nothing _to_ say. She sat there, eyes wide, staring at him in shock.

“Dare I ask what you did to her?”

Victus’ gaze slid left. “Aquila.”

The _Lantre’s_ cabal captain sat down, taking the seat to Adrien’s left. The human sitting next to him didn’t move, she seemed frozen. The female turian raised a brow plate and turned towards her general. “Is she broken?”

Victus sorted. “She’s not broken she’s just in shock.”

“Uh-ha, and _why_ is she in shock?”

“That is between me and her.”

Aquila made a disgruntled noise, jolting Ari back to the present with the realization she and the general were no longer alone. She made to rise, “I should go…”

“No.” Victus caught her wrist, wrapping his talons around the appendage so as to keep her seat. “Sit, finish eating. According to Marxus you’re twelve kilos shy of a healthy weight. You’re not allowed to skip meals.”

Ari’s neck went pink but she dutifully picked up her utensil and took another bite.

Satisfied, Victus turned back to his own meal while beside him, Aquila did the same. The rest of breakfast was silent and when Ari was done, the general checked her plate to make sure it was empty before dumping his own and gesturing for her to follow him.

“I realized yesterday that I did not give you a proper tour,” he explained as they walked, “If you can spare the time, allow me to do so now.”

She nodded and fell into a proper respectful following distance two steps behind him. Victus grabbed her arm and drug her forwards until the two of them were shoulder to shoulder. Once he was sure she’d stay there and not retreat, he let go, reminding her once again that they were social equals and that as such it was her right to walk beside him.

“But I’m human -” Ari started to protest.

Victus rounded on her. “I don’t care what they told you at the Academy, your humanity means nothing to me. As far as I’m concerned you are turian in every way that matters and what is more, you are Darren Tactus’ daughter. You are my equal lieutenant, socially if not in rank. A daughter of Palaven, I suggest you start acting like it.”

Swallowing hard, Ari nodded and then fell into step beside him once more. The tour continued, they visited every room on the ship and she was introduced to several key members of the _Lantre’s_ crew. Most of them received her well and the one poor bastard who didn’t ended up on latrine duty curtesy of a growling General Victus. After that news seemed to spread so by the time they got to the engine room which was to be the lieutenant’s onboard duty station, the mechanic – a cantankerous, foul mouthed turian with a bare face and a thick waist – didn’t dare say to her what he really wanted to say for fear Victus might make him scrub toilets or something.

As soon as the general was gone, however, he backed Ari into a corner and growled at her stay out of his way and not to touch anything.

Rather than cower as she might have done were she still at the Academy, Ari squared her shoulders and met his eyes. “No.”

Thanix blinked at her. “What did you just say to me?” he demanded.

Ari glared at him. “I said no. I’m not going to not touch anything, not when I’ve been assigned -”

“You’ll do what I say you’ll do, human,” Thanix snarled at her, advancing. He saw her cringe but not step back. So the little human thought she was brave did she? Well, he’d just show her. “I’m in charge of the _Lantre’s_ engines and I’ll be damned if a stupid little pyjak like you screws everything up because you’re too fucking stupid -”

“Finish that sentence I dare you,” Ari challenged, pulling on the determination her father had drilled into her that’d all but been driven out by her time at the Academy. “I’ll -”

“You’ll do what?” Thanix asked, baring his teeth. The last thing he needed was some stupid little human high on a power trip because she was a fucking high caste to come in here and start fucking with his calibrations. “What could you possibly -”

“How bout we make a deal,” Ari suggested, deciding to try something else rather than threats. A threat required follow through and she wasn’t in any kind of position to actually hurt him. She needed her strength back before she could that.

He scoffed. “I don’t make deals with pyjaks.”

“And I don’t normally make deals with barefaced bastards but for you I’m willing to make an exception.”

Thanix’ mandibles spread wide with shock. “What did you just call me!?!”

Ari’s eyes were steel. “You heard me.”

He growled, howling I rage as he advanced on her, intending to teach her a lesson. “You little bitch! You think you know me ‘cause I don’t have some high caste markings like yours? Fuck you, you don’t know shit!”

“Yeah, well, neither do you!”

“What?” He drew back his head, head cocking at her in confusion. “What’re you talking about!?”

Baring her own teeth, Ari released a growl of her own. “You don’t want to be judged by how you look; your bare face or that thick waist of yours, try extending others the same courtesy. I know what it’s like to be treated -”

“The fuck you do!” Thanix countered. “You’re a fucking Tactus, a high caste bitch with an entitlement complex. You don’t know shit about being blamed for something you can’t control!”

“I know more than you think!” Ari countered, yanking her skirt up to her breasts, exposing the long scars that ran down the side of her torso. As soon as she saw his eyes widen she put her shirt back down and shoved up a sleeve, exposing her arm. Once he’d seen that she lowered it and then fixed her eyes on his, daring him to say anything.

Hi mouth worked, “What in spirit’s name happened to you!?!”

She scowled. “I’m human, that’s what happened to me. I’ve spent the last two years being beaten, starved and yelled at because I apparently committed the unforgivable sin of not being born turian. And then they sent me here, to a ship full of fuck ups who can’t obey orders commanded by a general my father absolutely hates because, according to him, _he_ can’t follow orders either. I don’t serve to be here, I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing except be born human so don’t you _dare_ tell me I don’t know what it’s like – it’s you who’s got no fucking idea!!!!!!”

Her impassioned rant caught Thanix completely off guard – it took Ari off guard too. All of a sudden she was telling him about all the things the Academy had done to her, every last little thing going back two years. She told him about the medic who refused to treat her, her classmates who always left her behind during field training, how she always got blamed for not working with a team even though they were the ones who always abandoned her. She told him how she got beaten up and threatened the one time she’s used her biotics to defend herself and she told him about how her armor had been taken away from her and she’d been forced to wear turian armor that didn’t fit her which led to almost every scar she’d initially showed him. When she was done she collapsed to the floor and drew her knees up, rocking back and forth as she began to sob. Thanix didn’t know what to do other than feel really, really bad about having yelled at her. Barefaced he may be, he’d never had it as bad as her.

With a sigh he lowered himself to the ground and let out a mournful keen, the sound drawing her wet eyes back up to his. “I’m sorry.”

Ari sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “No I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you a barefaced bastard.”

He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “No, you definitely should have. If not I might’ve not listened.”

Stifling a grin, she dropped her eyes and intently began studying the ground.

The mechanic released another sigh. “Okay look, how about we start over. Hi, I’m Corporal Vetri Thanix, the _Lantre’s_ mechanic. I’m a bit tetchy and don’t play well with others. You’re turn.”

She looked at him. “I’m Lieutenant Arianna Tactus; I just got graduated from the Academy and this is my first duty station. I like music and according to Tysus I’m the last person you ever want to play shatar against.”

“Who’s Tysus?” Thanix was curious, the name sounded familiar.

“My best friend, Tysus Fedorian,” came her reply,  “I grew up with him.”

The turian blinked at her. “Your best friend is the son of the man who’s next in line to be fucking Primarch!?” A nod. “Remind me never to make you angry.”

“You mean again?” she prodded, feeling comfortable enough to gently tease.

He nodded vigorously before a tense sort of awkward silence fell around them. They sat there, not talking, until finally Thanix sighed and hoisted himself back up. Looking down, he held out a hand and carefully pulled the lieutenant to her feet. They stood facing each other, silently judging, until the turian broke eye contact and stepped back.

“We should get to work,” he told her, “There’s a whole list of shit we’ve got to do. It’ll go faster with two of us.”

“Just tell me what to do,” Ari said, sticking her hands in her back pockets.

With a grin, Thanix waved her over to the core drive and began to explain how it worked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there’s a conversation in the kitchen while Thanix chops vegetables...

* * *

According to Darren Tactus – and at least half a dozen other important, high caste people – the _Lantre_ was little more than a glorified pirate ship with no rules, no order and no respect for authority. This simply wasn’t true. Two weeks aboard and Ari was confident the most notorious ship in the fleet didn’t deserve its reputation. It functioned the same as any other ship: three shifts, two off one always on, crew members spread evenly, officers on rotation and a general who was only ever really off duty when he was sleeping and sometimes not even then. For all her father and the other generals complained about him, General Victus was as dedicated to his command as any one of them – possibly more so. He made the rounds every day; made it a point to talk to everyone at least once and if he _did_ take any personal time it was usually short. She would know, for the past two weeks all Victus’ downtime had been spent with her.

And she _still_ didn’t know why.

Surely the general had something better to do then waste his time on her even if he was obviously doing it out of concern.  Every day he’s ask her how she was settling in and if she needed anything to which Ari always answered that she was fine and no she didn’t. She was positive Victus didn’t believe her which is why he kept asking but slowly, ever so slowly, Ari’s confidence was gaining and with it her ability to lie convincingly. She had Corporal Thanix to thank for that. After their initial confrontation on that first day down in the engine room, (which Victus had _not_ been pleased about – the bare faced mechanic  had only avoided joining Sergeant Nos on latrine duty because Ari had stuck up for him insisting that if he was going to be punished for insulting her, she had to be punished for insulting him. Eventually Victus had backed down but not before threatening to throw Thanix out of the airlock if something like it ever happened again)  the two of them settled into an easy working relationship that very quickly matured into something more profound. 

According to Aquila, the cabal captain whom Ari’d learned was General Victus’ XO (and wasn’t _that_ a strange concept for her to come to terms with – a cabal as second in command), the Lantre’s mechanic didn’t like anyone but for some reason he’d decided he very much liked her. Rather than continuously hide out in the engine room, Thanix began accompanying her to meals and if she wasn’t with Victus it was a fair bet to guess she was in the mess hall or the rec room with the ship’s most ornery crew member. His continued attentions and genuine desire to want to spend time with her began to slowly erode the wall she’d built around herself during her years at the Academy. She started opening up; joking, laughing and occasionally teasing her two almost constant companions.

The Lantre’s Chief Steward, meanwhile, on the other hand, seemed to have made it his personal mission to feed her to death.

She was gaining weight thanks in no small part to the red and brown plated turian who ruled the kitchen and loved to experiment. Somehow he’d convinced Victus to let him buy a plethora of levo based foodstuffs, none of which he had any idea of how to cook. Not to be deterred however; he began doing research off the extranet and enlisted Ari to help him taste test the various stages of the cooking process because if he did it he’d die of anaphylactic shock. At least half of her personal time was spent in the kitchen, at the prep table, peeling, chopping and slicing various fruits and dutifully tasting everything the very enthusiastic Chief Steward Braxos put in front of her.  Her favorites so far were something called mashed potatoes and some sort of bright yellow brick from Earth called cheddar cheese.

Of course, there was a downside to spending so much time in the kitchen.  So far Ari’s interactions with the crew were limited; her duty day was spent with Thanix, her downtime with Braxos and any hours she had left over with Victus. The medic, Marxus, would habitually pop up every other day or so, drag her into the infirmary, weight her and then scan her before telling her she could go. Other than that she didn’t really talk to anyone but that was fine with her. She preferred it that way and after some convincing, during her second week she talked Thanix into joining her whenever she was in the kitchen. It was there that Victus found him one day when he walked in on the hunt for something to eat. He froze at the sight of the Lantre’s cantankerous mechanic sitting at a table, chopping vegetables.

“Dare I ask what you’re doing?”

The corporal didn’t look up. “I’m chopping cavets.”

“Carrots,” Braxos corrected absentmindedly from somewhere over by the stove. He never stopped stirring, “Something I can help you with General?”

Shaking his head, Victus decided it was probably better not to ask. “I skipped lunch. I was hoping you might have something –”

With a trill, the steward directed him to the walk-in freezer. Victus approached it and opened the door only to almost collide with Ari who was on her way out holding a tray. Her eyes went wide and she startled when she saw him.

“General Victus!”

His mandibles flared. “Ari.”

Clutched the tray, Ari felt a flush beginning to creep up the back of her neck. She bowed her head, “Forgive -”

“There is no need; it’s me who almost ran into you.” He looked down on her, eyes traveling to the platter she was so tightly holding onto. “What’s that?”

She looked up. “It’s…it’s called chicken which is a type of bird found ingeniously on Earth. Supposedly it takes on the flavor of whatever you cook it in.”

“I see.”

Self-consciously Ari nodded and although she desperately wished to lower her eyes she stubbornly held his gaze. He’d told her she needed to start acting like a daughter of Palaven and, because she was a good turian, she didn’t wat to disappoint him.

“You know you’re letting all the cold air out, right?”

As if he could forget, Victus was freezing, but he didn’t want to startle her or move. She was slowly starting to warm up to him and he didn’t want to lose that. He’s already startled her…

The Chief Steward was probably the most observant turian on the whole damned ship. He saw everything, heard everything and knew everything curtesy of his time spent watching everyone when they were in the mess hall. He knew what game Victus was playing and what he hoped to achieve by it. Arianna Tactus was the only person on the ship who was high caste, Victus’ equal. With her he could be open, sincere; genuine. He didn’t have to be General Victus all the time, he could afford to be just Adrien and no one would raise a plate. Unfortunately for him the girl’d come to them broken, abused, starved and scared of her own shadow. Victus wanted her to trust him but was afraid of scaring her.

Braxos decided to help him just a bit. “The General was looking for food. Tactus, could you please -”

“Of course.” She stood to the side, allowing him to enter before hurrying over to the prep table where she began chopping her chicken. Victus immerged from the deep-freeze minutes later holding a plate with some leftovers from lunch. Kicking the door shut, he walked over to the re-heater, threw the plate inside and set it to warm.

Then he waited. He really hadn’t expected there to be anyone else in here. Except for Braxos the kitchen was usually empty.

“This is the third time.”

Victus turned to Ari, surprised that it was her voice which broke the silence. “I’m sorry?”

Eyes never leaving rising from her task she replied, “This is the third time you’ve skipped lunch this week.”

The general was surprised. “I wasn’t aware you were monitoring my eating habits.” Secretly he was pleased, if she noticed his absence it meant she’d been looking for him. Maybe soon it wouldn’t always be him that had to seek her out. Maybe soon she’d start coming to him. That’d be nice; it’d been a long time since anyone had actually wanted to spend time with him.

Someone from his caste at least.

She shrugged, still focused on slicing her meat into thin strips. “My first week you always ate lunch with me.”

“So now you expect it?”

She shrugged again; Thanix and Braxos were both trying very hard to make it look like they weren’t listening when really they were awaiting her answer on baited breath. “It was nice having something to look forwards to.”

Exceedingly pleased by the admission, Victus felt himself grin. “You could’ve sent me a message. I would have left my office if I’d known you were waiting for me.”

The back of Ari’s neck turned bright pink. “Oh, well I…I wasn’t, I mean I didn’t want to presume -”

“I believe I ordered you to presume once, I can do so again.”

“No that’s…that’s not necessary.”

The re-heater dinged behind him – the general retrieved his plate and then, much to the surprise of all, sat down at the small prep table besides Ari.

The kitchen suddenly got very quiet.

“Is something wrong?” Victus asked innocently, pretending not to know he’d just broken about half a dozen social protocols. Adrien really couldn’t care less; he’s just gotten the lieutenant to admit to liking his company. He’d be damned if he gave up that ground now.

Braxos didn’t say anything; he returned to his pot and refused to get involved. Thanix on the other hand tried to politely excuse himself, something he failed miserably at – the polite part at least. He’d pushed back his stool and hade made it almost to the door before Victus called him back and commanded he sit.

He made it through five of the things before curiosity got the better of him and he found himself asking, “Why’re you eating in here?”

Victus had to hand it to him; he’d lasted longer than he’d thought he would. “Apparently I’ve been remiss in my duties. I’ve three meals to make up for apparently.”

Beside him Ari dropped her eyes, suddenly the table was every interesting.

Sensing he’d reached her limit, he’d pushed her harder and further than ever before, the general decided it was time to change the subject. “We’ll be arriving at Thuriam soon. I’ll be giving the crew a day’s leave. There’s a bathhouse there on the station, its run by a good friend of mine. I’d like you to accompany me to see her.”

Ari was surprised. “W-why?”

Victus hummed.  “Because it occurs to me that you’ve never talked to or met another of your species and that doing so might have some benefit. Also, I know there are still things you need but don’t want to ask me for. That’s fine. Marina’s a perceptive person; I’m sure after five minutes with her I’ll get a list.”

Well that wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. He was still trying to make accommodations for her. “Sir, General, I don’t need -”

Anticipating her response, he cut her off, “Yes, you do need and no, I won’t let you conform.”

“But I -”

“No!” Victus shouted. He was tired of this argument; they had it almost every day. Why would she not act like the women he knew she’d been raised to be, surely she still had some defiance left in her. She was a daughter of Palaven, General Darren Tactus’ daughter – the Academy couldn’t have beaten it all out of her it just wasn’t possible. He’d bring her defiance back if it killed him.

“I know what the hierarchy says about me and I’m sure it’s very near what your father’s told you but contrary to what he or they say I don’t in fact make a habit of neglecting my duties.”

Ari tried. “I don’t think -”

But Victus wasn’t done. “My duty to you, to all who serve me, is to take see to your needs and make sure they’re met. You need things, I know you do, and you either can’t or won’t tell me so I’m taking you to someone who can and will. I will carry you if I must or drag you there kicking and screaming. You will go, you will see her and you will get those things you require. I order it and you will obey, is that understood?”

Dutifully, Ari replied, “Yes General,” before dropping her eyes to study the table again.

No longer hungry, Victus pushed back his plate and made to stand. Looking down on her, on her bowed head and flushed, heated neck, the general felt some of his frustration fade away. With a sigh he turned on his heel and left.

Why did everything have to be so damned complicated?


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

Dinner did not go as planned.

From the moment she appeared at his door it was obvious Victus had made a tactical error. In wanting her to let down her guard he’d failed to take into consideration how she’d feel being alone, with him, in a room with only one exit. The first ten minutes of their meal was filled with a tense silence and Tactus’ constant furtive looks towards the door. Another ten minutes and Victus had had enough; it was time to switch strategies.

“Tell me about the academy.”

Ari froze, hand  outstretched, reaching for her water cup. She seemed torn, “What would you like to know, Sir?”

Deciding to let the ‘sir’ part of that address go – at least it was better than general – Victus replied, “I took the liberty of obtaining copies of your instructor’s records. I’ve noticed several inconsistencies.”

The human swallowed, hard. “Inconsistencies Sir?”

She was preparing for an attack, he could _see_ it. Her shoulders had tensed and she seemed to be counting her breaths, waiting for him to strike. He was only too happy to disappoint her, “I watched you perform in the war games. You evaded capture quite spectacularly and yet somehow still managed to end up behind enemy lines in a position to do damage. That’s quite the feat for someone who, according to her instructors, lacks any discernable motivation or talent. Perhaps you can tell me why they think that.”

It was the moment of truth, would she or wouldn’t she take the bait. Seconds ticked by and then, in the smallest voice Victus had ever heard, she replied, “Because I wanted them to.”

The general grinned. Now they were getting somewhere. “You misled them on purpose, downplaying your abilities so nobody would thing of you as a threat.”

“They’d already decided I didn’t belong there,” Ari said, “Nothing I did was going to change their minds.”

“So you played into their expectations, lulling them all into a false sense of security.”

She nodded. “It’s what you would’ve done.”

Victus was surprised. “It is, yes.” He studied her, “You used my tactics.”

A very small, tiny, minuscule smile tugged at the corners of the human’s mouth. “When traditional methods fail it’s time to think outside the box. My father thinks that half the reason nobody likes you isn't because you constantly find flaws with accepted strategy but because ** _they_** didn't find them first. Rather than admit you’re smarter than them, they lash out – wanting to bring you back down to their level because if everyone’s on the same page then you’re not a threat. I’ve lived with that reality all my life and, personally, I don’t know how you can stand to keep doing it.”

Surprised, her answer so far from what he’d been expecting, Victus decided to be bluntly honest with her. “The problem with power is that, after a while, you get so used to having it you fear the thought of it being taken away.  Fear is the enemy in both our cases. In yours, your classmates feared you and to protect themselves, they tried to break you. You survived them and won the battle but you’ve not yet won the war. You’re timid and afraid, constantly ready for an attack and while I admire that, you’re in no danger here. You’re letting your fear control you. To beat it, you have to let go.”

Ari swallowed. “But I…I _can’t_. Every time I do -”

“No one is going to hurt you. Not on my ship, not under my watch. You’re safe here, you can rest; sleep with both eyes closed for the first time since you left home.”

She was torn again. “But…but…what if -”

“Do you trust me?” Victus asked, leaning forwards across the table so he could look her in the eye. “As your commander, as your general, do you trust me when I say you will come to no harm? That I will protect you?”

She wanted to say yes, that was the correct answer, the answer he was expecting; but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lie, not to him, not after he’d been so open and honest with her. “No.”

Victus’ mandibles opened wide in shock. Suddenly he was angry and growled, “What do you mean no!?!”

“Actions have more weight than words,” she said calmly, looking back at him with a sad expression that made his anger momentarily fade. “I’ve heard promises before and made the mistake of trusting them. I’ve learned to be cautious. You're my commanding officer and I know I've no right to make demands of you but if you want my trust sir, you’re going to have to earn it.”

A challenge, she was giving him an ultimatum. And he would accept because backing down was absolutely not an option. Victus had never backed down from a challenge in his life.

“How?” he wanted to know, hoping she’d give him some insight on how to approach this because while he’d had to earn crew member’s trusts before, none of them had ever been quite so guarded.

She shrugged and decided to take a gamble to see how he reacted. Marxus had said the general had a wry sense of humor. Time to put that piece of intelligence to the test. “You’re the tactical genius,” she issued, unknowingly using the same words Thanix had hours before. Her follow up, however; was a little different, “I’m sure you can figure out a way to breach my defenses.”

His breath caught. She was teasing him, she had to be. It was an attempt at humor, another challenge, not a precursor to something else. Still, despite her innocence, Victus felt his plates twitch; hands clenching on the table top.  Deep breaths, he told himself, willing his sub-vocals to betray nothing, answer her.

“I’m sure I can.”

Pleased by the response, Ari went back to her food. Her father had warned her about her sense of humor and how it was likely to get her into trouble one day and yet, with Victus, it seemed to have done the opposite. He  ** _did_**  say he wanted her to trust him and not reprimanding her for a little bit of teasing would certainly help his case. A quick glance at his facial expression showed he wasn't offended and suddenly Ari was hopeful. She prayed to the spirits she wasn't wrong about him and that the stories she'd heard about the renegade turian who'd somehow managed to become a general weren't all fabrications. Hopefully there was some truth to them.

“Well,” said Victus, dropping his head towards his chest as he realized their conversation was over. There was nothing left to say and he didn’t want to risk undoing the progress he’d made by keeping her longer then she was comfortable being kept, “I suppose I should let you go.”

Grateful he seemed to sense that she’d reached her limit for the evening; Ari stood and automatically fell into parade rest. “Thank you for your time, Victus. Our conversation has put me…more at ease.”

“I’ll consider that a victory,” he replied, standing to offer her a more formal dismissal. She seemed to stand much more on ceremony then the rest of his crew did. He had to mentally remind himself she was from a caste as high as his. “Get some sleep Sergeant. We pull out in the morning and Thanix will need your help making the engines ready. He likes to start early so make sure you report before zero-six-hundred.”

With an appreciative nod, Ari gave him an informal salute before turning on her heel and taking her leave. The general watched her go before sinking wearily back into his chair. The evening might not have gone as planned but it can’t be said he didn’t learn something. He learned that she was smart, smarter than any of her teachers had given her credit for, and she had a head for strategy. Arianna Tactus was playing the long game and Victus was starting to think he might’ve been wrong about her just winning the battle and not the war. Her reticence wasn’t just a defense, it was her armor. She’d wrapped herself up so tight it’d take a welding torch to break through her layers.

Suddenly Victus smirked. Breach her defenses indeed – he had a plan. Nobody could ever accuse him of backing down from a challenge, especially not one given him by a worthy opponent.

And that’s exactly what she was.

Worthy.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

The _Lantre_ left port at exactly zero-six thirty and, on Victus’ advice, Ari was in the engine room, ready, an hour prior. Thanix was impressed.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he rumbled, “But what in spirit’s name are you doing up so early? Duty day doesn’t start for another hour.”

“I wanted to make sure I was on time.”

The turian snorted. “More like you wanted to sneak out of the barracks before anyone saw you.”

She glared at him, a hurt look on her face. He shook his head, “Don’t give me that look; I’ve been there. It’s why the general gave you to me.”

Ari’s blue eyes turned hard. “Is it?”

He nodded. “I’m a barefaced bastard and you’re a human; two koy nuts on the same fucking tree. Victus is playing us both now here…” he tossed her a data pad, “…go make sure the power levels are all in the green. I don’t wanna burn out before we clear atmo.”

In a rare moment of letting her guard down, Ari stuck her tongue out at him before he could turn his back and then marched off towards the drive core. Behind her, Thanix smirked and then went through his own checklist, reeving the engines before the pilot called for them to take off.

For the rest of the day he and Tactus worked in companionable silence punctuated only by bouts of instruction. She was learning fast. For someone who knew nothing about mechanics let alone the inner workings of a spaceship, the girl was a surprisingly quick study. He’d told Victus yesterday she was smart but Thanix was realizing he might have to amend that to ‘she’s a fucking genius who might, _might_ , be as smart as you’.  The general was used to being the most intelligent person on the ship; his education had certainly been the most extensive. The only one who could top him was Quintilus.

Second Lieutenant Octavia Quintilus was the bastard daughter of Senator Tavos Quintilus and although she had her father’s name, she wore her mother’s colony markings. Like Victus and Tactus, she’d had a classical education and together the three of them were the only high-castes on the whole ship. Which is quite possibly why, during dinner (which Thanix had actually come out of the engine room for, he’d wanted to stay with Ari so she wouldn’t have to brave the mess hall alone), the Lieutenant came to their table and sat with them.

Thanix growled at her. “Something you want Quintilus?”

She cocked her head. “Protective much?” she ribbed without even blinking. “I thought the only thing you cared about were your engines?”

His sub-vocals rumbled. “What do you want?”

“I came to see what all the fuss was about.” Avian eyes turned towards Ari, narrowing in scrutiny. “You know, Marxus has half the crew terrified to go anywhere near you? I thought I’d take my chances.”

Ari looked at her. “And why’s that?”

Octavia shrugged. “You’re General Tactus’ daughter.”

“Am I?” Ari questioned, needing to know where this was going.

The turian woman nodded. “You are what you’re made, not what you’re born. The first Primarch was born a Vycus but nobody ever seems to remembers that. He was adopted and raised by the Ignatius’ and that’s how history remembers him. Human or not you’re a Tactus.”

“And you are?” Ari prompted.

“Octavia Quintilus, I’ve got the bunk above you. You slipped out awful early this morning, any reason why?”

“She didn’t want anyone to see her,” Thanix supplied, wanting to see if he could get Ari to stick out her tongue again. He had a competition going with Victus; who could get her to take off her armor in the shortest time. As of this morning he was winning.

“She’s got trust issue,” he explained.

Octavia snorted. “I don’t blame her. My cousin was in basic with her, different squad but still. He told me how everyone used to hide your gear so you’d be late and how your drill instructor once made you to sit-reps until you threw up. Then he made you clean it.”

Ari looked down at her plate; embarrassed. Thanix was watching her.

Octavia continued. “And at the Academy, I heard you defended yourself in a fight then got blamed for starting it. I don’t blame you for being on guard; you’re probably waiting for us all to jump you.”

“Are you?” asked Ari, without thinking. Then, as if realizing what she’d said, “I…I mean -”

“Well there you go; the human’s got teeth after all.” Octavia was grinning, “Just keep doing that and everyone’ll leave you alone.”

“They’d better leave her alone anyway,” came a new voice. The three of them looked up to see a female turian walking towards them. She sat down opposite Quintilus. “You know Marxus has the tendency to act like a mother varren when he finds someone he likes. He likes you. When he found out the general put you in the engine room, he threatened to rip Victus’ mandibles off if Thanix hurt you.”

And while Octavia let out a laugh and Ari’s eyes widened in surprise, Thanix let out an offended growl. “Why in spirit’s name would he think _I’d_ hurt her!?!”

The female gave him a look. “You’re not exactly a very personable person,” she informed him. “You’ve got a bit of a temper.”

“I do not!” the mechanic growled. “I’m perfectly -”

“I’ve seen you throw a wrench at Victus’ head!” Aquila exclaimed, “You’re lucky he knows how to duck.”

Thanix grumbled while, next to him, Ari threw him a look of incredulousness. “You threw… _how_ are you still _here_?”

Octavia snickered. “If I recall correctly, and I generally do, the general thought it was funny. Your aim sucks.”

“Which is why he stays in the engine room and never leaves the ship,” Aquila added. “You’ve failed your marksmen test how many times now? Six? Eight?”

“Twelve,” Thanix snapped at her, “And let’s see you win a fight without your biotics. Fucking cabal.”

“That’s Captain fucking cabal to you,” Aquila replied, turning to Ari. “Aquila Tarkarian, cabal commander. I’m also Victus’ second. I’m Victus’ second. You’re a biotic so that means you’re mine or at least you will be if the general ever gets round to working out your assignments. I saw you at the games; I can’t wait to see what you can do in a real battle.”

Unused to such praise, Ari felt herself blush. “Oh, umm…my biotics aren’t that impressive.”

All three turians let out non-believing hisses. “I think somebody lied to you,” Octavia said. “I wasn’t there but I saw the vids; you’re at least a vanguard if not an adapt. If you want, we could test you in order to find out.”

Ari hesitated. “Oh. I’m…I’m not sure…”

“At least think about it,” Aquila said, “If you are an adept or vanguard we need to get you the proper training. You don’t have to decide now though. It’s not like we’re going to be going on any missions anytime soon.”

“Where _are_ we going?” Octavia asked. “I haven’t gotten any messages and last I saw him Victus didn’t go into detail –”

“The _Lantre’s_ due for an inspection,” Aquila answered. “We’re headed to Terra, should be there in about a week.”

Shifting in her seat, Ari opened her mouth only to immediately close it. Unfortunately she didn’t do it fast enough because suddenly Thanix’ eyes were on her. “What?”

She wavered. “It’s nothing, just…my father’s stationed on Terra and its…it’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“So send him a message,” Octavia said, “Let him know you’re coming so you can meet him. He’ll be happy to see you.”

“Will he?” she wondered. “I didn’t exactly graduate with honors and my father’s a traditionalist. He’s never been Victus’ biggest fan and he doesn’t approve of the _Lantre_. The fact that I’m on it is likely to make him mad.”

“Well that’s unfortunate,” Aquila trilled. She sighed, “I guess we’ll just have to take you with us when we go on leave then.”

Surprised, Ari looked back at her. “Take me with you?” she echoed, “Where?”

“To the best bar we can find,” explained Octavia. “Its tradition, we have to get you broken in.”

Ari wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.

Thanix wasn’t sure he did either. “What in spirit’s name makes you think I’m letting you take her to a bar?”

Aquila snorted. “I thought Marxus was her self-designated protector. She’s been here a day, how’d she manage to get you -”

“I like her okay?” the male boomed, crossing his arms as he scrunched down into his chair. “She reminds me of my litter sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Octavia quipped. “You mean there’s more than one of you? I don’t know if the galaxy can handle two Thanix’. Maybe we should –”

He growled. “Listen you elitist bitch -”

“Why Thanix, you always say the nicest things. It’s a wonder you never get any females – ”

“Bite me Quintilus. Or, better yet, bend over and I’ll show you -”

“I will stab you in the eye with one of your precious gaskets if you so much as _think_ about trying to shift my plates!”

The ridiculousness of the situation, Ari couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. The argument stopped, all three of them turning to look at the human next to them doubled over in uncontrollable fits of merriment. Eventually she stopped and the conversation resumed, each telling her about the things they’d take her with them to do once they’d landed. Ari was having a hard time keeping her walls up and by the time she’d retired for the night, she was ready to admit that at least when it came to those three, opening up might not be so bad. She could trust them a little bit. With a smile, she fell asleep.


End file.
